


Takeaway

by michaely



Series: Ain't Ever Getting Older [2]
Category: Gone Home, Life Is Strange (Video Game)
Genre: F/F, Female Friendship, Friendship, Platonic Female/Female Relationships, Platonic Relationships
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-06
Updated: 2020-07-16
Packaged: 2021-03-04 21:15:35
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,011
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25112983
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/michaely/pseuds/michaely
Summary: "Before I'm someone you leave behind, I'll break your heart so you don't break mine."Set after the "Sacrifice Arcadia Bay" ending. Sequel to my first story, Chainsmoking. You probably need to read that before being able to understand this one. The Pricefield relationship is a major focus of this story, but the driving action is focused more on Chloe herself.After her separation from Max, Chloe learns to make the hard choices about what she wants from life and love.
Relationships: Maxine "Max" Caulfield & Chloe Price, Maxine "Max" Caulfield/Chloe Price
Series: Ain't Ever Getting Older [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1819399
Comments: 13
Kudos: 16





	1. Chapter 1

For her work at the Portland Veterans Affairs Medical Center, Chloe’s job is simply to answer the phone. But right now, her attention is fixed only on her own device. She has wracked her brain to its limit, but the message draft in front of her still remains nearly empty. The deadlock has persisted for what feels like eons. That accursed text cursor blinks persistently, yet no new words are laid down. Chloe almost feels like this simple user interface element is mocking her.

So far, all she has managed is this:

_Max, I must have started and stopped this message a hundred times. Truth is, I need to tell you_

* * *

“Wh--what?” Chloe was just able to lift her jaw up from the floor but still couldn’t manage a response that was beyond monosyllabic. “How?”

“His mom called me a couple weeks ago,” Max explained, “Said he plans on proposing when the family comes to visit for my birthday.”

As the pounding in her temples intensified, Chloe nearly lost her grip on the phone she was using to Facetime with her best friend. The can of Pabst Blue Ribbon in her other hand, however, remained safe.

“And,” Max continued while chopping some green olives (Chloe couldn’t help but notice the insistent force Max was using in her work as she spoke her next words through gritted teeth), “that if I intended to say no, I better just tell him in private rather than humiliate him in front of everyone.”

“Holy shit, that is an alpha move.”

Max used her chef’s knife to push the olives into the bowl of salad she’d been prepping. “I really have no idea what that lady wants. I have done everything to get her to be OK with me. I’ve complimented her Stepford Wives haircut, laughed at her stupid puns on pottery, supported her rip-off side hustle with Avon. I’ve got three fucking cases of unused eyeliner sitting in my closet!”

Chloe might’ve been originally shocked at the immensity of the news Max had dropped but now she’s taken aback by how the usually calm and composed Max has suddenly gotten so incensed.

“Sorry,” Max said with a groan, “that woman is a migraine in heels, I swear.”

“But,” Chloe approached this next question with trepidation, “what are you gonna say?”

“To Zach?” Max actually responded quite coolly as she washed her cutting board, “I’m saying yes, of course.”

“Just...” Chloe sputtered, “Just like that?”

“It’s not like I’m coming to this decision just now,” Max said as she set the salad bowl on the dining table. She then walked over to the couch and took a seat, folding her legs underneath her. “I’ve had my time to consider it all, and I’m...” she shrugged her slim and delicate shoulders, “I’m comfortable with the idea.” She picked up the glass of merlot sitting on her coffee table and took a sip. “I mean, he’s sweet. Loyal. A good listener. Always happy to see me.”

“We’re not talking about a seeing eye dog. He’s gonna be your husband.”

“Chloe,” Max’s tone turned serious as she diverted her eyes from the screen and anxiously tussled her auburn brown hair. “Even in spite of...” she struggled for words, “everything that’s gone down between us...”

Chloe now found herself unable to look at Max.

“I still wanted us to be friends,” Max went on. “And sometimes friends just tell each other what they want to hear.”

When Chloe could look back at Max, she noticed Max’s pleading expression. For the longest time, it was Chloe alone who inspired the confidence in Max to soothe any of her worries and doubts. With a sigh of her own, Chloe responded, “Of course. I’m...” she nodded resolutely, “I’m happy for you. I really am.”

“Thanks,” Max gently responded with genuine gratitude.

The sound of the front door opening could be heard from Max’s side of the screen. “Speaking of...” Max said as she rose from the couch.

Chloe could see Max going to greet Zach at the entryway to their shared apartment. Zach pulled Max into a tight hug, holding onto her with genuine contentment. Max returned the gesture with familiar affection.

“And look what Zach brought,” Max said as she positioned her camera to focus on the generous bouquet of lavender, white, and pink peonies held by Zach.

“Oh shoot,” Zach said playfully, “These are for my other gorgeous, wonderful, and talented girlfriend.”

Max pouted her lips in protest.

“But you can have them,” Zach offered with a chuckle.

Max received the present with a wide grin. “Isn’t he the nicest, Chloe?”

Chloe couldn’t help but flash a smile as she pondered, even for a moment, if this is what’s best for Max after all.

“Hey Chloe,” Zach called out in his usual jovial manner of speaking, “How you doing?”

“Living the dream, Slender Man.” Chloe had developed a variety of nicknames for Zach, used in jest on account of his prolific height. She took a sip from her beer. “By the way, I watched Endless Waltz.”

“Oh really? What did you think?”

“Total shit.”

“You’re kidding.”

“You got your nostalgia blinders on, dude. Just because Gundam Wing was the first series to be shown in America doesn’t automatically make it the best. You gotta expand your horizons a little.”

“Now just wait a second—”

“Guys,” Max interjected, “This is not the Zach and Chloe Otaku Hour Podcast. This is just dinnertime with Max and Zach.”

Zach smiled at her apologetically. “Right.”

“Dinner in five?” Max offered.

“Sounds great. I’ll go wash up.”

“Sure,” Max said, placing a gentle kiss on Zach’s cheek.

“Take care, Chloe.” Zach waved goodbye as he walked out of screen.

Max and Chloe gazed expectantly at each other. They each suspected the other was pregnant with something to say. In the end, the only utterance came from Chloe.

“Good luck, Max.”

* * *

The noise of fists banging on glass wrests Chloe’s attention. A groan of frustration sounds out afterward. Chloe looks up to see a middle-aged woman airing out her grievances with a misbehaving vending machine. A white blouse and cream color cardigan hang off her gaunt frame. A floral pattern bandana is wrapped around her bald head. Contrary to her diminished physical stature, she is really giving that machine all it can handle.

“Piece of fucking shit,” she growls under her breath.

Chloe gingerly steps into her view. “Hey, I know it’s not ideal to be negotiating in hostage situations,” she holds up a dollar bill. “But sometimes there’s nothing wrong with path of least resistance. May I?”

The woman nods and gestures for Chloe to go ahead. Chloe slips the money into the slot and punches the appropriate buttons for her selection. The machine hums to life and this time surrenders the appropriate goods. Chloe reaches down and retrieves the woman’s desired item, a bag of Funyuns (strangely drumming up some complicated memories for Chloe herself).

The woman takes a relieved breath to center herself. “Thank you.” She takes the bag from Chloe.

“Glad I could help.”

“Look,” the woman pops a piece of snack into her mouth, “I swear I’m not usually so crabby and scary, but the chemo’s got my appetite up and down all the time. And they had me fasting this morning because they’re doing bloodwork.”

“I gotcha. No worries.”

“I’m always like, what is the point?” the woman goes on. Chloe has developed a theory that the closer you are to death, the further away you must be from your inhibitions. “So what if they find out I got diabetes or some shit? Like that’s gonna be what kills me?”

Chloe isn’t sure if the woman is trying to shock her with an especially morbid brand of humor, but having been no stranger to death herself, Chloe isn’t so easily flummoxed.

“Think about it this way: lots of totally badass people have had cancer. John Wayne. Babe Ruth. Patrick Swayze!”

“God, I love Ghost.”

“True heroes of our time. Don’t you want to be counted in that group?

“Hm,” it seems like it’s been a long time since this woman has had something compelling to think about. “You’re right. I need to be more careful about the company I keep.”

“That’s the spirit.”

The two laugh together, as it’s always a relief to find a kindred spirit.

The woman extends her hand, “I’m Lonnie by the way. Yolanda, but everyone calls me Lonnie.”

“Chloe Price. Nice to meet you.” She shakes Lonnie’s hand. Despite Lonnie’s overall depleted appearance, none of the force from her handshake seems to have dissipated.

“Oh that’s right, you replaced Midge at reception.”

“That’s me.”

“All the better, if you ask me. Nice lady and all, but couldn’t transfer a call correctly to save her life.”

“I think they told me she started working here when they were still using messenger pigeons.”

“Whoa, Price, cold blooded!” Lonnie laughs with spirit. Chloe gets the impression Lonnie hasn’t been able to let loose in quite a while.

Lonnie eats the last piece from her bag and tosses it into a nearby trash bin. “All right, thanks very much for saving me from starvation.”

“Wouldn’t want you to go full Kate Moss and blow away in the wind.”

“I’ll catch you around,” Lonnie replies with a chuckle.

“Hope so.”

Lonnie walks down the hallway and disappears behind the sliding elevator doors. Maybe this will be more eventful than Chloe had imagined.


	2. Chapter 2

“Goddamn pricks!”

“Chloe, you’re on speaker!” Max protested under her breath. Her eyes darted around to check if anyone in the office of the Seattle Times had heard. She rushed to exit the lobby and only upon entering her bumblebee yellow Nissan Leaf did she let out an exhausted sigh. Max dropped her phone onto the dashboard and rubbed her eyes in an attempt to soothe her escalating headache.

“No seriously, those guys are just motherfucking assholes!” Chloe called out from the other end of the phone.

“They’re right,” Max responded in defeat. “This stuff isn’t any good.” She carelessly tossed her portfolio into the backseat. “I keep feeling like I’m making Xeroxes of other people’s work.”

“Bullshit. You’re the best photographer I know.”

“Thanks,” Max’s reply was half-hearted at best. Maybe even quarter-hearted. “But winning a high school contest, which by the way didn’t even officially happen in this timeline, it’s just small potatoes in real life.”

“You can’t give up. You’re supposed to apply to the honors program soon.”

“I don’t know anymore. I didn’t get into photography just to look at PowerPoints all day or learn how to manage tabs in Photoshop. Everything I do feels so irrelevant.”

“You’re just going through a rough patch,” Chloe could sympathize with Max’s lack of direction. Chloe herself had been walking her own winding path for what feels like her entire life. “Why not do your own thing? Shoot it all guerilla style?”

Chloe had without a doubt always been the cynical type, but she constantly had the highest hopes for her best friend. Max immensely appreciated this special optimism that was reserved for her.

“It’s not like I’m out to set the world on fire,” Max explained, “I just want someone to care.”

Chloe couldn’t quite muster a response to this. She understood that some of her treatment of Max had projected an unquestionably uncaring impression. Chloe felt a pang of guilt at playing a role in knocking down Max’s confidence.

Max continued, “And what else makes me feel like shit is how Zach is busting his ass to get that teaching job at Georgetown.”

“You’re still considering that? Moving to DC?” The worry was more evident in Chloe’s voice than she would’ve liked.

“There’s getting to be less and less reason for me to just be hanging around here.”

Chloe could recall a time when both girls acted for each other, went to great lengths for each other, in fact. Chloe had once been the only reason Max needed. While Chloe was pained to have seemingly lost her status in Max’s eyes, she also had to acknowledge that the reason she had left in the first place was at least partially because she wasn’t ready to face all the responsibility that came with being that one person for Max.

A notification tone plays on Max’s phone.

“Zach’s calling,” Max pointed out.

Chloe still tried her best to console Max, “I’m sure he’ll be there with a batch of flowers and a warm shoulder to cry on.”

“Yeah,” Max couldn’t help but at least smirk at the thought. Zach was constant in his efforts to be a comforting presence ever since the two met. “I should take this.”

“OK sure.”

“Chloe?”

“Yeah?”

“We’re already in different states, right? Is it really gonna be that big a difference?”

* * *

“Um. Hello?”

Chloe sits at the front desk of Portland Veteran Affairs Medical Center. Phone in hand, that hopelessly bare message draft displayed before her:

_Max, I must have started and stopped this message a hundred times. Truth is, I need to tell you_

Directing her gaze up, she notices Lonnie standing before her.

“Mothership paging Captain Price. Come in, Captain Price,” Lonnie joked. Today, she’s dressed in a modest beige sundress. Simple and light blush and lipstick does its best to cover up her normally pallid complexion. But definitely the most striking feature is the shoulder length scarlet wig she now wears.

“Lonnie,” Chloe has to take a moment for her mind to confirm this person’s identity, “You look...”

“Not quite so like the Crypt Keeper this time?”

Chloe finds herself fast appreciating Lonnie’s irreverent and self-deprecating humor.

“I’m just trying to tell you I totally dig the getup,” Chloe says with a giggle.

“Well, I can clean up nice every once in a while.” Lonnie tries her best to strike a playful faux-supermodel pose.

“What’s up?”

“I came in to pick up a prescription, but I am glad I ran into you too.”

“What can I do for you?”

“You have dinner plans?”

“You mean aside from cooking a pack of instant ramen in the one coffee mug I own?”

“I figure one favor deserves another. You saved me from the forces of famine the other day, so I’d like to repay you in kind. I’m gonna make fish tacos--my abuelita’s recipe--plus my famous jalapeno margaritas. You in?”

“Jalapeno...margarita? Sounds like a Tom Cruise fever dream.”

“Please. Pipsqueak Brian Flanagan would shit his pants at how tasty these are. Trust me.”

Chloe might’ve replied “YOLO,” if not for the fact that she has actually gotten quite a few additional chances at this whole life business. But still, she acknowledges the importance of trying everything once. “Sure, why not?”

“Great, I’ll text you my address.”

“Definitely. See you tonight.”

“TTFN,” Lonnie flashes a wink to Chloe before setting out to the elevator.

* * *

_“SELF!_

_SELF!_

_SELF!”_

Katie Ofenstein’s forceful vocals blast out from Lonnie’s stereo.

Chloe bobs her head to the thudding beat of the song from the Youngins. Maybe it was her joy at having discovered an obscure gem of music or perhaps it could be the delicious cocktail in her hand, but she was having a great time tonight. “This stuff is awesome!” she exclaims.

“Glad to hear there’s still appreciation for the classics,” Lonnie points out. “What kind of music do you get into on your own time?”

“I like a lot of local bands. Defiance, Deadmoon, Bugskull. Firewalk, of course!”

“That’s right, you’re an Oregon girl too.” Lonnie had started clearing the dining table after her dinner with Chloe. “Whereabouts are you from?”

“Arcadia Bay.”

“No shit. Were you there?”

From these few vague words, Chloe instantly knows what Lonnie’s referring to. Through the years, Chloe had grown accustomed to how much morbid interest that storm has drawn from strangers.

“Yeah, we...” Chloe still could never decide how much detail was appropriate for these discussions. “I was right in the middle of that mess.”

“I always knew you were badass, Price, but that’s a new level. Good on you.” Lonnie raises her own drink up to Chloe, and the two women clink glasses in a toast.

“Mm!” Chloe exclaims as she takes another sip from her drink. “You’re right, jalapeno margaritas are the way to go.”

“Glad you enjoyed everything.”

“I’ve been eating Chef Boyardee out the can for the past week. This has been heaven.”

“There’s one more tortilla if you want to finish it off?”

“I might just burst at the seams if I eat any more, but seriously thank you for all this.”

“It’s my pleasure. Can you put the guacamole back in the fridge then?”

“No problem.” Chloe takes the bowl over to the refrigerator, where she notices a Polaroid attached with a magnet. It’s a simple head-on shot of a much younger incarnation of her host, with a caption of “Lonnie ‘94” scribbled at the bottom. “Holy shit is this you?”

“Ah,” Lonnie chuckles. “Yes, me from about the last Ice Age.” Lonnie walks over to the fridge and takes the photo into her hands. “I was a hot fucking piece.”

“Your hair was always that color?”

“No...” Lonnie grins contentedly as the nostalgia floods in. “My girlfriend helped me dye it. Sam. That was her name.”

“Oh, do tell.” Chloe isn’t necessarily the type to dig into sordid secrets, but let’s face it, the booze has made quite a dent in her inhibitions.

“You sure listening to an old crone recap her glory days is how you want to spend your evening?”

“The night is young and long.”

Lonnie smiles in bemusement. “OK then.” She walks over to the cabinet and withdraws a tall bottle of Santera Reposado. “We better skip straight to the tequila.”

* * *

“No way!” Chloe downs another shot and, owing to the alcohol haze clouding her brain, awkwardly plunks her glass onto the oak surface of the dining table. “You went AWOL?”

“Well, that was the intention,” Lonnie explains. “I got off the bus in Salem and was waiting for Sam to join me. To do what exactly? God knows what the hell we were planning. But I just knew I needed to be with her again.”

Chloe nods knowingly.

Lonnie goes on, “But a little bit later on, once our heads got a little clearer, Sam called again and reminded me that abandoning my post would throw me into a serious shitstorm. Those consequences would follow me for the rest of my life. And if she and I were gonna have a stable future together, I’d better make good on my commitment.”

“Sounds like she saved you from quite the disaster.”

“She was always the more rational one,” Lonnie confesses. She gulps down her own drink and smoothly pours herself another in a single practiced and effortless motion. “And I realized I didn’t have to be so afraid anymore. I was sure she’d wait for me. Whatever each of us had to go through, I felt like we’d always still be there for each other by the end of it all. That’s what I knew.”

“I know what you mean.”

“So I went to basic training, got transferred around to a few bases. She couldn’t live with me because of Don’t Ask, Don’t Tell.”

“Fucking bogus.”

“Amen.”

The two ladies bump glasses again and throw back their respective shots.

“But we made it work,” Lonnie states, “Because that was just how badly we needed each other. She’d always manage to pick up some odd jobs near wherever I got stationed. Anytime I had some leave, we would, you know, ‘enjoy each other’s company.’”

“Careful, my stomach’s already woozy.”

Lonnie continues with a laugh, “So yeah, things were nice. I put in my time with the service and got my discharge. And finally, after years and years of dancing around the issue and skirting behind walls and dark corners just to be together, we were free.” The smile that Lonnie gives to Chloe is unfettered and unapologetic. “We made a good go of it. Scraped up money wherever we could, getting by with just our own hard work, never having much but always trying to give the world to each other, that was really the way to live.”

Chloe understands these sentiments more deeply than Lonnie could ever know.

Lonnie breaks what had up until now been a brisk pace at which she was telling the story. She grips her glass hard and tenses her lips. “One night we were watching a movie. Blade Runner. I always remember because it was the scene when Deckard gets arrested while eating those noodles. I started coughing up blood.”

Chloe’s expression turns dour as well.

Lonnie sniffles a little before continuing, “My two-pack-a-day habit since high school finally caught up to me. Lung cancer.”

Chloe shuffles uneasily in her seat. She had been tempered to the more grim realities of life, but this is an especially heavy brand of tragedy that not even she’s accustomed to facing.

Lonnie wipes away the mist of tears that had formed under her eyes. “It had progressed pretty far. By the time they found it, it had already metastasized to my breast, and I was in for a mastectomy the next week. I told Sam I didn’t want her to spend her life looking after a corpse. She was still young. Beautiful. Smart. So much left ahead of her. I had nothing left to offer. Even the memories we had built, eventually they’d be replaced with all the misery that was to come for me. And I didn’t want her to remember me that way. Not for all the vomiting, the hair loss, the tubes going in and out of my body, the smell of hospital sanitizer. If I couldn’t give her a future anymore, I at least wanted her to remember me as I was. As that girl with the ‘big gold star’ around her.”

As Lonnie breaks down into pained sobbing, Chloe only knows to reach out and grasp her hand. Chloe squeezes gently and tries to give some warmth to Lonnie with a caring glance, applying some of the experience she had gained in providing comfort through her time with Max.

It seems to work. Lonnie offers back a strained smile to Chloe. “It’s funny,” Lonnie says. “For as much time as you get, there’s always still so much left undone. We were supposed to honeymoon in Europe. Get a dog. Go swimming at the beach. An actual beach, not these ice baths we got here in Oregon.” Lonnie allows herself a light laugh. “She and I didn’t even get to dance at prom.”

“You didn’t go?”

“This was the mid-90’s we’re talking about. The L Word was barely even a rough draft at that point.”

“That’s an old reference even for today,” Chloe teases gently.

“Watch it, Price,” Lonnie shoots back, regaining some of her playfulness. “I’m just saying two girls parading their relationship around in public would’ve been the scandal of my lifetime and yours.”

“If it makes you feel any better, I couldn’t go to my prom either. On account of me getting expelled.”

“You’re serious?”

Chloe nods.

“What the fuck? You’re like some Matryoshka doll of adolescent mischief.” Now it’s Lonnie’s turn for the teasing. The two women laugh together. Lonnie and Chloe enjoy the moment as the tension dissipates behind the veil of friendly ribbing and hard liquor.

“Well,” Lonnie finally speaks again, “it sounds to me like we are two ladies who have missed out on a significant developmental touchpoint in our lives.”

“Where is this going?”

Lonnie rises from her seat and walks over to the stereo. She inserts another CD.

As she turns to face Chloe again, the bluesy guitar intro to Roger Ridley’s rendition of “Bring It On Home To Me” starts to play.

Lonnie strides over back to Chloe and offers up her hand. “Ms. Price. May I have this dance?”

With a wide grin, Chloe puts her hand in Lonnie’s and gets to her feet. Ridley’s gruff yet soothing voice starts to resound within the humble confines of this room.

_“If you ever change your mind_

_About leaving, leaving me behind,”_

Lonnie places her free hand on Chloe’s waist, pulling her in just a half step closer. Chloe, meanwhile, drapes her other hand across Lonnie’s shoulder. These two gestures fall in place with ease, the women naturally reaching a harmonious sync with each other.

_“Oh, bring it to me._

_Bring your sweet love._

_Bring it on home to me.”_

Lonnie and Chloe start to sway with the rhythm. The intimacy they find in one another’s touch is simply meant to bolster their respective spirits. Both have been feeling exhausted from standing on their own for so long. Now they’ve found another soul to lean on (figuratively and in this moment literally too) and lighten those burdens.

Lonnie gracefully sweeps her arm over Chloe’s head and spins her outward, Chloe giggling on her way. Lonnie pulls Chloe back, now with Chloe spinning in the opposite direction and back into Lonnie’s arms.

Chloe rests her head down on Lonnie’s shoulder. The rocking motion soothes the worn and weary hearts of them both. Lonnie squeezes Chloe toward her ever so slightly.


	3. Chapter 3

“It’s not a date,” Max explained. “I agreed to meet him there. If we happen to be doing some stuff together, then fine. If at some point we just stop hanging out, then we stop hanging out.” She was brushing her hair in front of her bedroom mirror, studiously counting each stroke as always.

“What are you gonna do if he makes a move?” Chloe posited. Max wasn’t looking at her phone screen but already knew Chloe was giving her the lecherous eyebrows through the video chat.

“I haven’t thought that far ahead.”

“You better believe he’s thought that far.”

“Not everybody is some kind of sex-crazed deviant. Quit projecting.” Max held up two options for earrings, one platinum hoop and the other a golden round with diamond stud. “Which one?”

“The hoops go better with your face shape.”

“Besides,” Max said as she put on her earrings, “the last time with a guy didn’t go that great.”

“The fuck?” Chloe exclaimed with bugged out eyes. “The last time? With who?”

“It was orientation night at Blackwell. A bunch of us photography students got shitfaced on bubblegum schnapps that Victoria brought. And me and Evan--”

“Evan fucking Harris? That pretentious dickweed?”

“He offered to let me see his portfolio. You know how secretive he usually is about it.”

“Oh god, my Beefaroni from lunch is about to come back up.” Chloe feigned a gag.

“So we went to his room, started fooling around a bit, and he...” Max cleared her throat, “let’s say, ‘arrived early.’”

“Figures. All the juicy shit at that school waits until after I leave to happen.”

“He apologized for about five minutes straight and then fell asleep.”

“You so could’ve held that over his head for, like, the rest of his life.”

“Like you said, he’s just a pretentious dickweed, not much I want from him.”

“You have no sense of imagination.”

Max stood up so that Chloe could get a full view of her outfit, which consisted of her white T-shirt with the “OREGON OREGON OREGON” design, a red and black flannel shirt tied around her waist, and a pair of slim fit Levi’s in faded wash. “How do I look?”

“I remember my first Jonas Brothers concert,” Chloe teased.

Max rolled her eyes. “Why do I even ask?”

“Don’t you have something with more cleavage? Where’s the pushup bra I got you for your twelfth birthday?”

“Bye, Chloe.”

“Did you remember to shave?”

“Goodbye!”

Max hung up the call. She couldn’t help but giggle.

* * *

Chloe had been out shopping. Earlier in the day, she picked up some more local indie rock albums to listen to with Lonnie. When the charge nurse called, Chloe was at a wig shop, trying to find something in her trademark bright blue.

“Chloe, Ms. DeSoto was rushed here earlier this morning.”

* * *

As Chloe pushes open the door to Lonnie’s hospital room, she sees Lonnie vomiting into a plastic bag. The nurse seals up the bag and tosses it into the bin, then helps clean around Lonnie’s mouth with a damp cloth. Lonnie coughs a few more times, specks of red flying onto the cloth.

“It’s OK,” she says to the nurse. Lonnie’s voice is raspy and ragged. The nurse nods and exits the room.

Lonnie addresses Chloe now, “Well, Price, first the storm in Arcadia Bay and now I’m about to be read my last rites. You should’ve told me you were the specter of death. I never would’ve accepted those chips in the first place.”

“What the fuck happened?”

“They’re saying I won’t be walking out of here this time.”

“Are you shitting me? Just like that?”

“I’m past the ‘why me’ stage at this point, don’t worry. Right now I’m just trying to bury as many regrets as possible. So I’m glad you could come.”

“What do you mean?”

“I won’t pretend to know all the specifics, but I’ve been getting the feeling that you have, let’s just say, your own Samantha?”

Feeling that by now she owes Lonnie her full frankness, Chloe gives a nod. “Max. That’s her name. How’d you guess?”

Lonnie grins. “You get so deep into your own circumstance, you start to recognize it in others too.” She places an oxygen mask over her mouth and nose and inhales. “I won’t pry too much. I just feel like you should be with her again before it’s too late.” The coughs start to wrack her body again. Chloe rushes to Lonnie’s bedside and helps Lonnie lift the mask to her face again. After she manages to catch her breath, Lonnie continues, “Be with her again before you wind up here.”

“I...” Chloe replies, leaning against the railing of the bed. She hangs her head. “I broke things off with her because I didn’t know HOW to be with her. I couldn’t figure out what I was feeling. I couldn’t figure out what I was capable of doing for her. If I see her again now, I wouldn’t know what to do.”

“¡Madre de Dios!” Lonnie sighs in exasperation, “Don’t make it so complicated. Do you want to hold her hand? Feel her in your arms? Share an inside joke and listen to her laugh?”

Chloe doesn’t need long to consider. “Yeah. All of that.”

“Then start there. Put your focus into that. For all you know, you don’t even have time beyond just those things. Then you’ll miss her forever.”

Chloe knows full well how abruptly all things in life can just be snatched away, she knows how uncertain all of us are about how when that will happen.

“Lonnie?” The nurse has opened the door. “There’s a Ms. Greenbriar here to see you.”

“Thanks,” Lonnie responds. “Just one moment.”

The nurse nods in affirmation and exits the room.

“Greenbriar?” Chloe ponders. “Sam?”

“Yes.”

For as strong of a front as Lonnie had been putting on, Chloe is surprised to notice that the prospect of seeing Sam again seems to be what terrifies Lonnie the most. “Will you be OK?”

“Nothing will ever be OK. It’s not OK that I fought so long for the woman I love, only for it all to be pissed away.” Tears start to well up in Lonnie’s eyes. Her words are getting choked behind sobs. “She and I deserved so much more.”

“I’m so sorry.”

“You deserve so much more. Be with Max again. You should at least have that.”

Chloe wraps her arms around Lonnie’s withered body. “I love you, Lonnie.”

“Good luck, Chloe.”

Chloe steels her will and walks to the door. Before exiting, she glances back at Lonnie and tries to reassure her with a smile. Lonnie returns the gesture, and Chloe steps out into the hallway. She notices another lady entering Lonnie’s room soon thereafter. This woman has hazel eyes and long wavy blonde hair that’s pulled into a ponytail. She wears an olive green blouse and white jeans. This must be Sam. As she enters the room, Chloe watches through the window in Lonnie’s door. Sam collapses into the chair next to Lonnie’s bed and weeps into her hands. Her body trembles. Lonnie reaches out and clasps Sam’s hand into hers.

Armed with the full force of her resolve, Chloe walks out of the hospital.

* * *

_“I once had a girl,_

_Or I should say, she once had me”_

The opening strains play from the speakers at the Starbucks of Portland International Airport. Chloe sits on a bench against the wall and takes a sip of her café au lait.

“Excuse me, miss.”

Chloe looks up and sees an elderly Japanese couple. The man who spoke to her wears a finely tailored three-piece black suit with matching bowler hat. The wife has on a long sleeve white button-down and a long pleated mint green skirt.

“May we take the seats next to you?” The man asks.

“Oh, yes of course.”

“ _Hajimemashite_ ,” the wife says with a meek smile.

“Please pardon Midori,” the man says gently, “She’s not quite so comfortable with her English.”

“Oh. Um...” Chloe turns over a few bits of syntax in her mind, “ _Konnichiwa. Hajimemashite,_ ” she says with a bow. “ _Koko ni suwatte itadaite kamaimasen yo._ ” She gets to her feet and pulls the chair out for Midori. “ _Douzo_. _Watashi no namae wa Chloe Price desu_.”

“ _Ara, Nihongo ga totemo jouzu desu ne_!” Midori exclaims as she takes her seat.

“ _Koukou jidai ni ni, san nen benkyou shimashitanode_ ,” Chloe explains, “ _Koko saikin wa shikkari renshuu dekite imasenkedo, atatakai o kotoba arigatou gozaimasu._ ”

“ _Watashi mo wakai toki ni shikkari benkyou shite okeba yokatta wa_ ,” Midori complains.

“ _Tsudzukete doryoku sureba, sugu shuutoku dekimasu yo,_ ” Chloe reassures her.

“ _Arigatou ne. Sou itte itadakeru nante._ ” Midori smiles back, very appreciative of Chloe’s effort to make her feel more comfortable. “Ah!” She suddenly remembers something. “ _Anata, sou sou, okaasan ni kousui o kautte yakusoku shitadeshou_ ,” she says to her husband.

“ _Hai hai_ ,” He responds.

Midori addresses Chloe, “ _Kyou wa anata ni o ai dekite yokatta wa_ ,” Midori gets up from her seat and makes her way towards the duty-free shop.

“Thank you again for your kindness, Ms. Chloe Price. I am Toru Watanabe.”

“You’re welcome, Watanabe-san. Your wife is lovely. She reminds a lot of my mom.”

“You may find it hard to believe, but when she was your age, her appearance was quite similar to yours.”

“No kidding?”

“Then again, it was practically another lifetime from now,” Toru points out with a chuckle.

Chloe joins him in laughter. “So you guys have been together a long time? That’s always so nice to hear about.”

“Well, I must confess it was not always a smooth path for us. It’s so hard when you’re young to keep focus. Together in some moments, apart in other times, in and out of relationships with other people.”

Chloe still finds herself amazed by the recurring patterns of human behavior.

“But I guess when you do decide for sure that you want to be in love with this person,” Toru goes on, “you have to trust yourself to make the right choices for her.”

“That’s...” Chloe sighs, “that’s a lot to ask of yourself.”

“You might be surprised to learn what you are capable of.”

“Good morning, ladies and gentlemen,” the flight attendant calls out from the PA system, “we are now about to begin boarding Delta Flight 34 to Washington DC.”

“That’s me,” Chloe says as she scoops up her bag. “It really was nice to meet you.”

“ _Ganbatte ne_ , Chloe Price.”

“ _Arigatou gozaimasu_.”

Chloe makes her way to the boarding gate. She digs inside her bag for her boarding pass but finds her Pall Malls instead. Stopping in front of a garbage bin, she tosses the pack away.

**Author's Note:**

> You have to know I originally wrote Chainsmoking without any intention to continue the story past that. Having had some discussions with a few readers, I got the sense that there was dissatisfaction with how things had been left with our heroes Chloe and Max. Instead of hunkering down in my initial position, I decided instead to carefully consider if there was possibly a way to incorporate that feedback and work with my original vision to turn out something that can make the outside contingency happy. An artist should seek to utilize feedback to improve his overall work and challenge himself, after all. Maybe it accomplishes this goal, or maybe I merely manage to piss off a new fandom this time. If you've read to this point, I humbly thank you for having given this a chance.
> 
> The story arc is set to be concluded in the next installment, to be titled "This Feeling."


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